


Wasting Time With You

by kay_emm_gee



Series: the kids aren't alright (The 100 tumblr prompts) [13]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Museums, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3650025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Octavia drags Bellamy to an art museum to distract him from his history work and he loses track of her, stumbling instead on this blonde girl who has been staring at the same painting forever - what’s her deal?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wasting Time With You

As Bellamy stalked through gallery after gallery, he wished he had paid more attention to what Octavia had been wearing today, because all of the brunettes in this place somehow looked the same. Even recalling the color of her shirt would be helpful in seeking her out in the crowded museum. All he actually remembered from that morning was her overly cheery grin and the pleading tone of her voice when she had barged into his apartment and begged him to take a break from his thesis writing to go to the museum with her.

_Come on, Bell, the legends of the underworld will still be there for you to overanalyze and pick apart when we get back. Please, I really want to see the new exhibit!_

After fifteen minutes of her pleas distracting him from writing, he grudgingly got up and put on his shoes and coat and herded her out the door. By the time they were buying their tickets, he was surprisingly feeling less stressed about his rapidly approaching deadline. Who knew fresh air and sunlight could do that much good after only a short walk across the city.

Bellamy had trailed along after his sister for a while at the visiting display, but given that she stopped to read every single plaque, he eventually grew bored. Letting Octavia know he was going to wander, and to text him if she was going to another gallery, he left, heading for the ancient worlds section. Okay, so maybe he was a little bit obsessed, but at least now he could call this an educational trip rather than just a distraction.

Unsurprisingly, being around the preserved urns and tablets and tools just reminded him how much he really needed to get back to writing. With anxious steps, he paced back to the visiting exhibit, not realizing until his third trip around that Octavia had moved on. His phone was empty of messages, and Bellamy frowned, because finding his sister in this place was going to be impossible.

Sending her several insistent messages, Bellamy began searching for her in what he guessed would be the most likely places. Twenty minutes later, still no Octavia, and no responses to his texts. Sighing, he looked for girls around her age, very familiar with his sister’s uncanny ability to make friends in the most random places. There was a group giggling at a revealing statue, and another arguing over a depiction of a scene from the Bible. A blonde was seated in front of a watercolor, head bent over a sketchpad. No Octavia though.

After a third round of searching, Bellamy felt his temper rise, because it was getting pretty late, and he already was behind in his writing goal for this weekend. If his sister didn’t reappear soon, there was no way he would be able to catch up. Underneath the frustration was worry as well, because he was approaching an hour of her being gone.

With a desperate look around the current gallery, he saw a flash of blonde out of the corner of his eye. The girl had been here every time he had come through. Chewing his lip, Bellamy debated interrupting her to ask if she had seen Octavia. Clearly the girl was oblivious to the rush of people around her and probably wouldn’t have noticed his sister, but at this point, he had nothing to lose.

Stepping hesitantly up to her, he cleared his throat, “Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt—”

“One second,” she mumbled, holding up a finger to silence him.

Lips pressed together, Bellamy watched her sketch frantically, her eyes darting quickly between the paper and the painting on the wall. He thought he caught a flash of blue, but it was hard to see with her head bent like that. Curling tendrils of hair fell forward from her low bun, swishing back and forth slightly against her flushed cheeks with every slight tilt of her head. Pencil smudges covered her small hands, leaving streaks behind on her face when she reached up to push her hair out of the way. Bellamy smiled softly, because her intensity was refreshing.

When she sighed and straightened suddenly, her eyes (blue they were, incredibly so) fixed on him curiously, and Bellamy felt his pulse quicken as he registered just how pretty she was. Then she smiled, brightly, and it was all he could do to get out his next words.

“Uh, sorry, it’s just—I seem to have lost track of my sister. Just wondering if you’ve seen her. She’s about your age, short and brunette, has a massive amount of braids in her hair, wearing a green or blue shirt, maybe?”

“Sorry,” Clarke said, sheepishly, leaving another smudge on her cheek as she adjusted the loose strands of hair again. “I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”

Bellamy nodded, then flashed her a thankful smile. “No worries. I figured so, just wanted to ask in case, since you’ve been here a while. She has a habit of wandering off and then not checking her phone. I’ll find her eventually.”

When he turned to walk away, the girl scrambled to gather her things, calling after him. “I can help you look, if you want? I know the museum pretty well. There are some hidden galleries she might be tucked away in.”

Surprised, Bellamy considered the offer, feeling his lips curve into a smile as he looked at the earnest, disheveled girl in front of him. “Sure, I can use all the help I can get. My day of writing is shot, anyways.”

“You’re a writer?” She asked as they headed for the gallery exit, raising her voice as they entered the buzzing, busy upper hallway.

“No, I’m in grad school, working on my master’s thesis. It’s due in a month, so I’ve been going a bit crazy, and Octavia convinced me to take a short break—key word being short—by coming here.”

With a small laugh, Clarke replied, “Well, if your thesis is art-related, just call this a hands-on research experience, yeah?”

“Unfortunately it’s not. Comparing the political hierarchy of ancient worlds doesn’t leave much room for waxing poetic about Greek and Roman art.”

“Have you seen the Langston gallery?”

As Bellamy dodged a tour group, he sent her a puzzled look. Her eyes lit up at his obvious ignorance, and she darted off for a small side-hallway to their left.

“Come on!” She called over her shoulder, the shake of her head causing her bun to come almost completely undone. Soft sunlight filtered down from the glass ceiling above them, and Bellamy couldn’t help but appreciate how it made her hair glow like a halo.

As he followed her through the glass door into the small gallery, muffled silence descended, the room only being occupied by a few other people, the two of them, and a small but impressive collection of paintings, sculptures, and other art pieces depicting famous political moments of the ancient world. Stunned, Bellamy paused near the entryway, wondering how he had never found this particular section.

The girl smiled up at him, clearly satisfied with his reaction. “Right up your alley, I’m guessing?”

“I’ll say,” he whispered back, feeling pleased when the blush in her cheeks darkened and she looked away, suddenly very interested in her shoes. “I’m Bellamy, by the way.”

“Clarke,” she said quietly, looking up at him with those wide blue eyes that made his stomach suddenly drop at the openness in them.  

Soon, though, that openness was replaced with excitement and even a bit of challenge as she toured him around, pointing out things she had noticed and arguing with him when he tried to correct her interpretations. More than a few times their excited voices rose above the respectable volume level for the deserted gallery, but they would just grin at each other as disapproving stares were sent their way. They were, in fact, engaged in a heated debate about one particular painting when suddenly a relieved voice called out softly across the room.

“There you are!”

Startled, Bellamy looked away from Clarke to see Octavia striding across the room towards him, an exasperated look on her face.

“Where have you been?” He muttered. “I’ve been looking for you for ages. Answer your damn phone.”

Hand on her hip, Octavia sent him a annoyed glare. “Why don’t you check _your_  phone, big brother? I’ve been calling it repeatedly for the past thirty minutes.”

Indeed, when Bellamy looked at his phone, he saw a dozen missed calls from his sister.

Wordlessly, he slid a guilty glance at Clarke, who was just barely holding back laughter. He watched apprehensively as she turned to Octavia and said, “Sorry, that’d be my fault. I was quizzing your brother on his knowledge of Roman history. He was nice enough to accommodate me.”

As Octavia glanced between him and Clarke, her eyes dancing playfully, Bellamy bit back a groan. His sister knew him, and his type, way too well. He was in deep trouble, with her propensity for scheming and her constant worry that he was too involved in his academic work and taking care of her to find someone to settle down with.  

“Well,” Octavia drawled, a knowing smile creeping onto her face, one that had Bellamy shaking his head at her in warning. “Knowing my brother, that wasn’t a chore for him. Seems like you did him a favor.”

Clarke smiled, clutching her sketchpad tighter to her chest. “Happy to help then.”

“You know, I was going to go for coffee to thank my brother for bringing me here today. Why don’t you come with us? Then my brother can buy, in return for not answering my calls and making me worry, and for subjecting you to his endless blathering about this senator and that rebel faction.”

It was all Bellamy could do not to reach out and yank on one of his sister’s braids, because she was being about as subtle as a nuclear explosion. With hands clenched tensely in his jacket pockets, he watched surprise then thoughtfulness flash across Clarke’s face.

“Sure,” she said softly, turning to him with a question in her eyes.  _Are you okay with this?_

With a relieved breath, Bellamy smiled at her and nodded slightly. His grin grew when she smiled back at him with a hesitant but hopeful quirk of the lips.

“Let’s go then!” Octavia proclaimed, turning on her heel as she darted for the door.

Bellamy glanced down at Clarke, whose intrigued expression made him feel excited and nervous in the same breath. As they headed towards the exit, Clarke cleared her throat and said, “Does she really need any more caffeine?”

With a chuckle, Bellamy replied, “It’ll work out for me later, when she crashes and then naps. I’ll be able to at least get a few pages done today.”

“Are you writing all week?”

At the curious tone in her voice, Bellamy caught her eye before replying, “Yeah. It’s pretty much all I do.”

“You write from home?”

“Mostly.”

“So, there’s this neat little lunch place down the street from here where I sometimes go to clean up my sketches after I start them, if you want to, you know—”

“I’m free Thursday afternoon,” Bellamy replied quickly.

With a soft laugh, Clarke nudged his arm with her elbow, eyes glimmering with excitement. “It’s a date then,” she murmured happily before quickening her pace to catch up with Octavia.

Later that night, when Bellamy was tiredly typing away and feeling the pressure of his looming deadline bear down on him, he couldn’t quite regret spending his afternoon at the museum, thinking of Clarke, and her smudge-filled face, her blonde hair and her bright smile, and how Thursday seemed much too far away. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr (kay-emm-gee)!


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